Saving Sergeant Barnes
by aehawthorne
Summary: Cassandra Flynn is a psychologist working as a consultant for SHIELD, helping them to break HYDRA's hold on their recaptured brainwashed agents. It's a hard job, and Cassie is sure that it will always be that way- difficult, but not overly so- until the day she's given her hardest assignment yet- helping Bucky Barnes recover from decades of HYDRA programming
1. Chapter 1

Cassie stood in front of her stove, making breakfast. To her right, her dishwasher sat yawing open like a hungry mouth,a reminder to herself to run it. Breakfast cooked, she sat down at her table and was just about to take a bite when her phone rang. She sighed and dropped her fork onto her plate with a _clang_.

"This is Flynn," she answered.

"We need you to come in," said the no-nonsense voice on the other end. Cassie didn't recognize it, but that was hardly surprising. She was never contacted by the same person twice.

"Why?" she asked. "Did Agent 31 relapse?"

"No. She's progressing exactly as you predicted, actually."

"Then why-" Cassie started to ask, then it dawned on her. "You want me to talk to Captain Rogers."

"You read my mind" the person's tone of voice told her that they were smiling. "You really are a psychic."

"I'm not a _psychic_ I'm a _psychologist_," Cassie protested "There's- you know what? Never mind. What exactly do you want me to tell him?"

"You just need to... explain things."

"What things?"

"You know, psychological things."

"So you're saying you want me to talk to him about Sergeant Barnes."

"Yes."

"You do know I can't help his friend until he finds him, right?"

"Yes, what's your point?"

"I don't know, it just seems rather rude to basically tell him to hurry up and find his friend considering the amount of effort he's probably already put into doing just that."

"We don't pay you to be polite, we pay you to clean up HYDRA's mess." The voice was angry now.

"I thought that was your job," Cassie retorted.

"When it comes to the mind of our agents,it's yours."

"But Sergeant Barnes was never an agent of SHIELD-"

"He was a Howling Commando. That's close enough," the voice interrupted smoothly. Cassie sighed.

"Fine," she said. "What time do you want me to be there?"

"10:45, and try not to be late. The captain doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"He's waited sixty-nine years. I'm sure he could stand waiting a little bit longer," Cassie muttered, but the person on the other end had already hung up.


	2. Chapter 2

Steve's phone rang. He lifted the needle off the record he was listening to, filling his apartment with silence. He glanced at the three little holes in his wall and sighed. Lost in thought, he allowed his phone to ring at least three more times before he remembered to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Captain Rogers?" A woman's voice, with a crisp English accent. It reminded him suddenly and painfully of Peggy.

"Yes," he replied.

"Oh good," said the person on the other end, clearly relieved. "I had the right number then."

"Yes," Steve said tiredly. "What is it that you want?"

"We need you to come with us," the woman on the phone said.

"Come with who? And where?"

"I can't explain over the phone. You never know who might be listening. I promise I'll fill you in on everything when you arrive. There's a car waiting for you at the curb."

With those words, she hung up. Steve walked to the window and looked out. Sure enough, there was a sleek black SUV idling in the pool of yellow light under a street lamp. Steve sighed. He grabbed his shield and headed to the curb. Once there, he yanked open the back door of the SUV, tossed his shield in and swung himself in after it, slamming the door shut behind him.

"Great," the driver grumbled. Like the woman on the phone earlier, he had an English accent, although his was stronger and considerably rougher. "Here I am, a highly trained field agent, stuck playing chauffeur for Cap and his high-tech Frisbee."

"Oh quit whining Hunter," the brunette in the passenger seat said. "You should be honored."

"Honored. Right," Hunter muttered.

"Don't mind Hunter," the brunette said, turning to Steve. "He's a nice guy really, just a bit of a complainer."

Hunter looked like he wanted to protest, but he said nothing- at least nothing audible. Instead he muttered under his breath, glaring in the rearview mirror, and stomped on the accelerator. They shot off at a speed Steve was sure wasn't legal. He stared out the window, his forehead resting against the cold glass, and watched the streets pass by in a blur. Eventually they came to a stop in front of the entrance to a bunker like building, the entrance being the only part of it that was visible above the ground. Hunter rolled down his window and flashed some kind of badge at the camera watching them nearby, and the door slowly slid open. Hunter pulled forward into some kind of hangar, with a ramp up into the compound itself. There was a woman standing at the top of the ramp.

"Looks like this is your stop," the brunette said. "See you later."

"Where are you going?" Steve asked as he got out of the car.

"To do, you know, top secret stuff," Hunter said gruffly. The brunette looked at Steve through the passenger seat window and mouthed _Play Call of Duty. _Steve restrained a smile. He expected the car to turn around and pull back out, but instead Hunter and the brunette got out of the car as well and went past him up the ramp.

"Don't you guys have somewhere to be?" he asked.

"Not at the moment, no," the brunette shot back. "Besides, we live here."

Steve frowned. Curiouser and curiouser. He walked up to the top of the ramp where the woman was waiting.

"Good morning Captain Rogers," she said, offering a hand for him to shake. "I'm Agent Simmons. We spoke on the phone earlier."

"Agent?" Steve asked, shaking her hand. "I thought SHIELD was destroyed."

"Oh, it was," Simmons agreed. "But we are currently in the process of rebuilding it."

"If that's why you brought me here, to recruit me for the new SHIELD, then you can forget it," Steve growled, his voice steadily rising. "I took it down for a reason, and I'm really not happy that you people ignored my warnings." Simmons took a step back, her hands raised in a placating gesture.

"Oh no, of course not," she said hastily. "There's someone we want you to meet. Follow me."

She turned and started walking away. Steve followed after her, still fuming. In the back of his mind, he puzzled over how the compound even existed, since he could have sworn all of SHIELD's old bases had been taken over by HYDRA. Then they passed a door with a stylized eagle painted on it- not SHIELD's, but one he recognized all the same.

"This is an SSR base," he said, awestruck. He couldn't tell because her back was turned, but he thought Simmons might have smiled.

It _was_ an SSR base," she corrected. "It is currently SHIELD's only permanent base of operations."

"This brings back some memories," Steve said with a tone that implied he was lost in them.

"Good ones or bad ones?" Simmons asked. Steve grimaced.

"A little of both," he said. Simmons nodded.

"We have a ton of old SSR files in here," she told him. "I think we even have your Project Rebirth file here somewhere."

"Really?"

"Yes. However, we didn't bring you here for the nostalgic value... Ah, here we are," Simmons said, stopping in front of yet another door with the SSR's eagle painted on it. There was music coming out from underneath it- something classical sounding and mournful, heavy on cellos and violins. Simmons knocked politely. When no one answered, she eased the door open and slipped inside. Steve followed after her. The room he entered was bare except for two office chairs and a large wooden desk. A young woman dressed in black leggings and an oversized purple hooded sweatshirt sat behind the desk, her combat-booted feet propped up on it, writing something in a notebook, her head bobbing to the music. Simmons cleared her throat. The young woman looked up, startled.

"Oh!" she cried. "Oh my goodness! You're early! I wasn't...I'm so sorry! Give me about ten seconds to collect myself! I'm sorry! I totally wasn't paying attention!"

She reached over to a speaker and hit a button on it, stopping the music. The she tossed her notebook inside a drawer and slammed it shut. Simmons restrained a smile. Even Steve had to struggle not to laugh. The young woman swung her feet off the desk, running out from behind it and skidding to a breathless halt in front of Steve and Simmons.

"Captain Rogers!" she exclaimed, shaking Steve's hand vigorously. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't expecting you until quarter to eleven! You must think me terribly absentminded!" Steve didn't bother restraining his laughter this time.

"Don't worry about it," he said with a chuckle. "I wouldn't be here so early if Hunter hadn't decided to drive like a madman."

"Yeah," she replied with a relieved laugh. "Somebody needs to introduce him to a little thing called brakes." Steve laughed. Simmons cracked a smile.

"I'll leave you two to get acquainted," she said, backing out of the door.

"Thanks Simmons," the young woman called after her.

"Please, sit," she said, indicating one of the office chairs. Steve sat. She resumed her place behind the desk.

"Now, where to start?" she asked.

"The beginning would be nice," Steve replied. She sighed heavily.

"The beginning. Right," she muttered. "Well, first off, my name is Cassandra Flynn. I work as a consultant for SHIELD. Or what's left of it anyway." Steve winced.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said. Cassandra shrugged.

"Don't be," she told him. "You did what you had to do. And they didn't hire me until after the Helicarriers crashed anyway.

"What exactly does SHIELD consult you for?" Steve asked, eager to change the subject. Cassandra tapped her forehead.

"Issues of the mind," she said. "I'm a psychologist. I specialize in understanding and treating different kinds of mental trauma. As you can imagine, SHIELD has a lot of need for that right now."

"Why?" Steve asked, although he was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"Well, as I'm sure you know, HYDRA has brainwashed a lot of SHIELD's agents over the years, which didn't really become a problem until they decided to rear its ugly tentacled head." Steve's mouth twisted into a wry smile at the jab at HYDRA's logo, a skull with squid tentacles.

"Anyway, " Cassandra continued. "Whenever they manage to recapture a brainwashed agent, they call me in. At that point, it's up to me to figure out how best to break HYDRA's hold on them."

"And how do you do that?"

"I've found that a particularly strong memory from their time fighting on our side usually works best, which brings me to my next point- why you are here."

"And why am I here?"

"Because of Sergeant Barnes." Cassandra shot Steve a look that clearly said _Well Duh! _Steve frowned.

"Bucky's not under HYDRA's control anymore," he protested. "What's the real reason I'm here?"

"I'm aware of the fact he's no longer brainwashed," Cassandra said, exasperated. "But you know as well as I do that brainwashing is by no means his only issue. Stop being so paranoid. Not everyone has an ulterior motive, you know."

"SHIELD does."

"I'm not SHIELD."

"But you work for them." Cassandra sighed.

"Look, whatever SHIELD's motivations might be, I assure you I only want to help," she told Steve, sliding a business card across the desk. "So when you find your friend, will you do me a favor? Call the number on that card?" Steve nodded and wordlessly took the card. There was a knock on the door.

"That would be Simmons coming to collect you," Cassandra said. "Take care Captain."

"Thank you," Steve replied. When he reached the door, something occurred to him. He turned back.

"Miss Flynn?" he asked. She glanced up curiously.

"Thank you for being honest with me," he told her. She smiled.

"You're very welcome, Captain," she said. "And please, call me Cassie."

"Cassie. Right," Steve replied, and slipped out the door. He left Cassie sitting at her desk, writing in her notebook, frowning like she was pondering the mysteries of the universe.


	3. Chapter 3

Cassie's phone rang early in morning for the second time in a week.

_At least I got to finish my breakfast this time,_ she thought ruefully. She regretfully set down the book she was reading and tapped the answer button on her phone.

"Hello?" she asked

"Cassie? It's Steve-uh, Captain Rogers."

"Oh, hello Captain!" Cassie said, suddenly a lot more interested. "How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks. I uh, I found Bucky. Or rather, he found me."

"I see. And how's he doing?"

"Not too good. He had some nightmares last night. They must have been pretty bad- there was a lot of screaming and thrashing around." Cassie frowned.

"I see," she repeated. "Well, just hang tight. I'll send someone to pick you guys up."

"Not Hunter, I hope," Rogers said worriedly. Cassie laughed.

"No, of course not. Subjecting your traumatized friend to Hunter's driving would be a very bad idea." His relieved sigh was loud enough to be heard over the phone.

"Thanks," he said. "See you soon?"

"As soon as possible," she assured him, and hung up. She called Simmons immediately afterward. She picked up on the first ring.

"What do you need, Cassie?" she asked.

"I just got off the phone with Captain Rogers. He says he found his friend. I need someone to pick them up and take them to the base. I assume that _someone's _been keeping track of his living arrangements." Simmons didn't immediately respond. They both knew who_ someone_ was.

"Any preferences on who?" she finally asked.

"Anyone besides Hunter. Rogers was very clear about that."

"I think Skye's free. I'll send her."

"Okay. Thanks Simmons."

"You're welcome," Simmons singsonged, and hung up.

Cassie sighed. For the first time, she found herself doubting her ability to carry out the task she's been hired to perform. She'd had remarkable success with SHIELD's brainwashed agents, but the things that HYDRA had done to Sergeant Barnes went so far beyond brainwashing that she wasn't even sure her usual methods would work. But Captain Rogers was trusting her to help his friend, and she'd just have to hope she could prove herself worthy of that trust.

_Here goes nothing,_ she thought, getting in her car and driving to the base. She parked in the hangar, next to SHIELD's solitary quinjet, and noted the obvious absence of the sleek black SUV from its usual parking spot, which meant that someone was using it for some kind of errand in the service of SHIELD. She had a feeling she knew what errand, but even so, there was no way for her to know when the captain and his friend would arrive. She sighed impatiently and made her way into the base. She paused in front of the door to her office, then continued past it to the lab. She nodded to Fitz, who was fiddling with some kind of gadget laid out on the table in front of him, then sat down at a table of her own. She put her earbuds in and set her phone on vibrate so that she could hear it over her music, then settled in to wait. What felt like several hours passed before her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen and saw it was really more like thirty minutes.

"Yes?" she asked by way of answer.

"Skye's just arrived," Simmons said on the other end. "She's got Rogers and Barnes with her." Cassie thought for a moment.

"Have them meet me in the lab," she finally said.

"The lab? Not your office? Are you sure?" Simmons asked. There was a warning note in her voice.

"What's the problem Simmons?" Cassie wanted to know.

"Considering the sergeant's mental state, such as it is, do you really think it's a good idea to bring him to the _lab_?"

"I'm sure I can handle it."

"Okay, if you say so." There was a click as Simmons disconnected. Cassie set her phone down. After a while she heard voices down the hall. She recognized one as Captain Rogers'.

"Please Bucky," he pleaded. "I'm not going to hurt you. No one here is going to hurt you." The voice that responded was frantic. Desperate. Terrified even.

"No! They'll hurt me Steve! They'll make me hurt _you_! Don't make me go in there! Please don't make me go in there!"

Cassie ran out into the hallway, and nothing could have prepared her for the scene that greeted her there. Captain Rogers had an arm around the waist of a man with a thin, haggard face and ragged unkempt hair, who was screaming and thrashing, trying desperately to break his grip and escape. Their eyes met for a split second, and the wild, haunted look in them sent a shive down Cassie's spine. A moment later Rogers was hit across the jaw by the man's metal arm and he went down. The man took the opportunity to release himself from the captain's grip and try to bolt down the hallway. Skye, who'd been standing some distance away, watching the chaos unfold, jumped out of his way, apparently deciding that she didn't want to tangle with someone who could knock Captain Rogers to the ground so easily. Cassie's mind raced. She had to do something quickly or he'd be gone.

"Sergeant Barnes!" she said sharply. He stopped and immediately snapped to attention, though he looked extremely bewildered as he did so, and Cassie knew all to well why. The habit was deeply ingrained due to his extensive military training, both for the SSR and SHIELD and against it, but the excessive amount of memory wiping that HYDRA had subjected him to had left him with only the habit and no meaning or explanation behind it.

"Do you trust...Steve?" Cassie asked gently. The name felt alien in her mouth. It felt wrong, somehow, to refer to Captain Rogers in such a familiar way, as if he was her friend, but she was careful not to let Barnes see that. There was a pause, then Sergeant Barnes nodded.

"And does he trust me?" Barnes looked over at Rogers, who was getting to his feet. He nodded. Barnes turned back to Cassie and copied Rogers' nod.

"Then you can trust me too," she assured him. "Neither I, nor anyone else here, is going to hurt you. I want to help you, but I can't do that if you don't let me. Are you going to let me?" Barnes nodded.

"Not much for words, are you?" Barnes started to shake his head, then stopped and said

"No ma'am." His voice sounded creaky from disuse. "HYDRA preferred to keep me muzzled. This is the first time I've been able to speak freely in... a while."

"Well, let's hope we can continue that trend," Cassie said with a smile. "If you'll follow me please Sergeant, Captain." She led the way into the lab, Rogers and Barnes in tow. Fitz was still there, still tinkering with the same gadget. She didn't know he could focus with all the noise in the hallway, but she had to admire his work ethic. She reached her table in the back and sat down, pulling out another chair and indicating that Sergeant Barnes should sit in it. Captain Rogers stood behind her, his arms crossed, six feet two inches and 240 pounds of patriotism and raw physical power. He was really quite intimidating.

"Let's start with something relatively simple," Cassie said, fidgeting nervously in her chair. "Do you remember anything from before you were the Winter Soldier?" Barnes thought for a minute, then nodded.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"We... were on a train. We were on some kind of mission... we were there to capture someone... I think it was Zola? There was a HYDRA soldier there with some kind of energy cannon that he shot Steve with. It didn't kill him, because the blast had deflected off his shield, but he couldn't get up. I remember that Zola was screaming at the soldier, commanding him to fire again, to-to... kill Steve. His shield was at my feet. I had a gun. I knew what I had to do. I picked up the shield and started firing at the soldier. He shot at me with his energy cannon. The blast deflected off of the shield, but the impact pushed me out of hole in the side of the train and... I fell. I knew I was going to die, but that was okay because I knew I'd kept my little brother safe. Cassie looked over at Captain Rogers. His expression was happy, but his eyes told a different story. They were filled with a deep, unimaginable sadness that even a writer-at-heart like herself could not find the words to describe.

"Well, that was intense," she said, making a pathetic stab at humor to try and lighten the mood. She turned away from them and began rummaging around in the drawers on the table. Her phone buzzed suddenly, making her jerk her head up so quickly that she whacked it on the light suspended over the table. She smiled sheepishly and reached for her phone while rubbing the back of her head.

"Director Coulson wants you to remain here for the course of Sergeant Barnes' treatment," she informed them, reading off of her phone. She saw Captain Rogers jerk in surprise at the name "Coulson", but she decided not to pursue the issue. She continued her hunt in the drawers and produced a notepad, which she handed to Sergeant Barnes.

"Whenever you remember something, write it down in here," she told him in her best doctor voice. "We'll meet again in a few days and see how you're doing."

"Can Steve come?" he asked.

"Of course he can! But don't be afraid to talk to me on your own. I won't bite."

Barnes smiled thinly at her attempt at humor.

"There's one more thing," Cassie told him.

"What's that?"

"I want you to remember that no matter what people say, you are not a villain. You are a good man and a good friend. None of the things you did are your fault."

Barnes nodded, although he looked doubtful.

" Thank you," Rogers said. "You've given us a lot to think about."

"That's my job," Cassie replied. "It is only by rational thought that we conquer the demons of our own minds. But nevertheless, you are welcome."

Rogers nodded once, then left, his traumatized friend following close behind him. Cassie gave them a few minutes, then she too left, leaving Fitz alone with his tinkering.


	4. Chapter 4

Steve walked to the room that had been prepared for him in SHIELD's only base, following an extremely awkward dinner during which everyone present had stared at him, their expressions ranging from openly awestruck to resentful and irritated. He had never felt more unwelcome. It was more clear to him now than ever that, despite his having the best of intentions, he might never be forgiven for the destruction of SHIELD. He sighed heavily and paused in front Bucky's room, which was adjacent to his own. He tapped lightly on the door.

"Bucky? You okay in there buddy?" he queried.

"I'm _fine_ Steve," came the exasperated reply.

"You sure? You're not gonna turn all deadly assassin on me, are you?"

" That would be a pretty stupid thing to do considering I'm surrounded by people who think I killed their boss, wouldn't it?" Bucky's words were lighthearted, but his tone was bitter. Steve frowned.

"Well, I'm right next door if you need anything," he said.

"I know, Steve. I know," was Bucky's response.

Steve sighed again and went into "his" room. Looking around, he could see that, for a bedroom, it was sparsely furnished. It had a bed, a dresser, a nightstand, a bookshelf, and not much else. The bookshelf was empty. The bed had sterile white sheets and was made in a neat, precise way that implied it had never been slept in. If past experience was anything to judge by, it probably never would be either. Steve sat down on the edge of the bed but immediately jumped back up again when it caved uncomfortably beneath him. It was then that he noticed the bookshelf wasn't as empty as he'd thought. Sitting on the top shelf, pushed back far enough to be missed by a cursory inspection of the room, was a record player, with a neat stack of records beside it. Steve flipped through the stack. Gershwyn, Sinatra, the Beatles, Led Zeppelin, U2. He recognized a few of the names, but most were unfamiliar to him. He placed the records back on the shelf and sat back down on the edge of the bed, finding that it didn't cave in as much if he did so slowly. It was late and he wanted to sleep, but his mind wouldn't let him. It kept going back to what Cassie had said to him earlier... what was it? "It is only by rational thought that we conquer the demons of our own minds"? Yes, that was it. His thoughts drifted to Bucky, in the room next door. What kind of demons were inhabiting his mind? And how much rational thought would it take to conquer them? Was it even... no. He pushed the thought away. He was even more aware of how late it was, and, despite his hyperactive mind, he was determined to get some sleep. He lay down on the floor and closed his eyes, and thought no more that night.


End file.
